


Street Light Eyes

by thehoundisdead



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is very short and stomachache inducing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehoundisdead/pseuds/thehoundisdead
Summary: Prompt: I told you I'm not good at dancing
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 138





	Street Light Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i got the prompt from [this list](https://eddiefuckinkaspbrak.tumblr.com/post/190806314736)

“I can’t believe you stepped on her toes,” Jaskier howls with laughter into the open air, the only loud presence on their quiet street as the walk home. His words slur just the tiniest bit; when his feet stumble ever so slightly, Geralt sighs and wraps an arm around his waist, Jaskier all the while continuing to shout, “Did you see the look on her face? She was so  _ offended,  _ oh my God, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“You stepped on a celebrity’s toes while fumbling your way through dancing with her,” Jaskier laughs, face shining pale under the moonlight that envelopes them. He stops then, turning in Geralt’s arms and placing a hand on either side of Geralt’s face, squishing him just a little and dragging him closer, “Geralt, Geralt, I think my love for you grew tenfold tonight. You’re the best combination of noble and fuck all awkward.”

_ “You’re  _ the one who dragged me to the party,” Geralt defends, voice muffled because Jaskier’s hands are still on his face, still pressing in on his cheeks. He’s lucky, the little singer, if he were  _ anyone  _ else Geralt would have wrenched away and spit something foul for this kind of touch. But as is, with Jaskier a little drunk and shining big on this quiet street, Geralt simply feels himself grow more fond. 

“Yes, my dear, that I did and I must say I’m  _ very _ pleased with the results,” he says, leaning his face into Geralt’s chest to laugh again, “I mean she had it coming. Did you see the way she was looking at you before? Like you were just a piece of sexy, sexy meat. Good on you for quite literally stepping on her.” 

“You look at me like that all the time,” Geralt points out, keeping hold of Jaskier’s shoulders to balance him as the man rears back. 

“Yes,” Jaskier shrugs, “But you’re my  _ lover.”  _

“Partner.”

“Same thing,” Jaskier waves away, turning forward to begin walking again, pulling Geralt along with him down the golden lit street, “It was glorious to watch.” 

“Hmm,” Geralt hums, fingers on Jaskier’s hips, thumb pushing under his shirt to rub at the soft skin beneath, “I told you I’m not good at dancing.”

“Oh no,” Jaskier stops them under the nearest street light, throwing his arms around Geralt’s neck, leaning in to press his nose against Geralt’s cheek, “I think you’re a wonderful dancer. It was that buffoon, she was the problem.” 

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs and tries to move them forward but Jaskier holds firm, shushing him. 

“Dance with me,” he whispers, looking at Geralt with wide, soft, eyes. 

“We’re outside,” Geralt says, but Jaskier just shakes his head. 

“That is true.”

“There’s no music,” he protests again but Jaskier simply begins to sway in his arms.

“It’s not about the music, Geralt, it’s about us. About me being close to you,” Jaskier explains, smiling as he says it, eyes never wavering from Geralt’s, “Dance with me.”

He never has been able to refuse Jaskier for very long, even when he should, so he holds Jaskier’s hips in his hands and sways them to imaginary music. Spinning Jaskier around, slow in the hazy sepia lighting of the street, his feet never fumble, never misstep, and even though Jaskier smells of vodka cranberry they move together with lover’s grace. 

“See?” Jaskier asks, voice soft, finally quieting down. His fingers trail across Geralt’s face, brushing the hair away from his forehead and rubbing softly at his cheekbone, “You’re an excellent dancer.”

_ With you,  _ Geralt thinks but resolutely keeps to himself. Instead he just hums, leaning into Jaskier’s touch. 

“Have I ever told you,” Jaskier begins, now tracing Geralt’s eyebrow, “How lovely your eyes look in this light? Like amber. I think I could get trapped in them, if I linger too long.”

“And is that a good thing?” Geralt asks, fingers tightening on Jaskier’s hips.

“For me? Of course,” Jaskier replies, pushing further into Geralt’s space to whisper, “I’m quite certain I’d like to stay with you forever.”

Geralt doesn’t have a response for that, can barely process the way his own heart flutters in his chest, so he leans in, pressing his lips firmly to Jaskier’s, licking at the soft, plush lips beneath his own. When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far, leaves his forehead pressed against Jaskier’s and whispers, “I love you.”

“Darling,” Jaskier whispers back, hands ever caressing Geralt’s hair, “I love you too.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [talk to me on tumblr!](https://acointoyourbitcher.tumblr.com)


End file.
